Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Life's Irony ❯ My life ( Chapter 1 )

When I was only three years old, a man named Tony Crowns took a butcher knife and sliced my father's head off like he was a little kid cutting a birthday cake. My older brother was seven years old, and from the day of the funeral my brother, Ky. was never the same. My younger sister Rosey was still swimming in my mother. So she would never get to meet her daddy, even though she was almost born four months early.

I was told I got my big, hazel eyes from my dad, but I wouldn't remember. At this point I don't even care. At age thirteen I was always bullied by the older kids, and sadly Ky just watched from the back round as still as the coffin six feet under our father's grave. I hated my school. I hated every school. Every teacher I ever had made sure I'd never make it in life. So I stopped attending. My mother grew furious at me, and was always screaming. She would also threaten to kill herself if we didn't listen to her. She was under so much stress, working two jobs, watching three kids, and being alone. She mostly scared Rosey, so she never talked, and Ky was at all times of the day locked up in his room talking to himself about random things that he thought would affect everyone. But wouldn't, or even couldn't.

I couldn't take it any more I stole my mother's purse, and took all of the money she had in it. I kissed my sister on the forehead, and left that broken home. So now I was living off of $43.08 in the hard streets on New York.

I found a new family quickly, as I was running from the cops down a dark ally. A guy who looked about sixteen pulled me in a pitch-black basement from a side door. He told me that his name was JT. And the other guys who were there were part of the brotherhood of the City Rats. In that damp basement is where they lived; it's where I lived. They taught me how to live, how to survive in this black hole we call life. By the time I was fifteen I was in juvie at least three times for trespassing, stealing, drugs, or some other nonsense that I really don't remember, or want to.

I was also hated by most people who I walked pass down the streets. They probably know me from the time I was in a car chase. Even though I wasn't old enough to even have a permit I was told to get that Lexis for JT. Once I even was then nineteen-year-old Ky yelling at twelve-year-old Rosey, and pulling her down the street for God knew what reason. I didn't want to get involved with my old family. I had a new family who had their own liking for me. Besides I don't think even Ky saw MW, and if he did I know he wouldn't recognize me. On the other hand, Rosey reached her hand toward me while her eyes watered up, and cried out my name while she was getting carried away.

I quickly turned around, and ran, I just ran. Why? I still can't answer that question. I finally turned sixteen, and still haven't gotten my license. I started street racing with a car that I hot-wired from some big company. I believed that if I won I would have girls dropping everywhere just to rub my lucky dragon tattoo on the back of my neck. I was right, but they usually wanted much more than to rub my neck, and they usually got it. Then I'd never see them again. One night some locals called the cops on us like usually. Everyone who was involved some how got punished. I was still a minor so for the seventh time in three years I was sent to juvie for eight months this time.

While I was there I got the first letter of my life. And to this day I still haven't got a clue who sent it. At the time it was information I didn't care for, but now I'm thankful. It had said that my mother had finally done it. She took a blade and cut her wrists. She's buried in the same cemetery my father still is. My brother was in a treatment center, and would be there for a long time. I paused to think of Rosey. Was she living alone like I was three years ago? Was she with a new family? No. She was lying in the hospital with her long blonde hair falling out. My little preemie sister had leukemia. I even knew that Ky wouldn't pay for the medication at the first signs. Rosey would die soon.

During those long eight months I'd think of her on and off. The day I was released I went straight to the cemetery. I made my way up and down the rows of tombstones. I finally came to one special one. In faded off engraved letters read: Here lies Joey Wheeler proud father and husband. I stared down at the freshly cutgrass over my father's coffin. He was the only one that understood me. And to think if it weren't for that one man he'd still be alive.

Ky would be the cheerful person he was as a child. My mother wouldn't have killed herself, which would have helped Rosey for the medication and lastly it would saved my life. I felt stirring inside of me. I've never felt that feeling before, wait yes I have when I ran away. It's the feeling you get before you cry. I had to leave that spot, for I Shane Wheeler didn't cry anymore. I taught myself to be strong I couldn't go soft now. I went up a couple more narrow rows. I stopped at another tombstone, my mother's. I stated mumbling curse words at her and hurried along. I went all of the way to the end of the gates just to pay my respects. I came to the last grave. It read: RIP Rosey Wheeler Sept. 1990 - July 8th 2003. Then I paused to think, today, the day I get out July 9th. I could have been there for her, with her.

At that point I thought everything was my fault. I couldn't help it six years of emotions came spilling out on that day, on the fresh soil of my sister's grave. I broke down and cried for a long time. Then I only had my brother Ky as a life link. And I had no idea where he was. I stood up and kissed the top of Rosey's grave, just as the day I left my life behind. The day I left her behind. From the moment I turned my back on the cemetery I knew I had to change my life. I took a couple of steps out of the moist grass and onto the soiled cement.

That's when I saw the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen. She looked at me and gave a humble smile. I smiled back. Something I hadn't done in a while. I kept seeing this girl more and more often. I also left my brother's and found a small apartment for low rent, and eventually found a job at a tattoo parlor. I retired from street racing so I took the bus to work everyday.

One day that girl with the smile came in. Business was slow so I got the honor of putting ink on her body. On her lower back was put a dragon, just as the one on my neck. I eventually asked her out to a diner. She accepted. I'd done it. I had changed my life. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't impossible. While we were eating I asked the girl her name. Yes. I'd fallen in love with Natalie Crowns. The daughter of the murderer who killed my father, the only one who understood me, until now...